Give the Kid the Cake
by TheatricalScribbler
Summary: The Signless and The Ψiioniic bring their descendants a cake. The results are disastrous.


**A/N: Okay, so this was based on an awesome comic, which can be found at psiifloor (dot) tumblr (dot) com/post/23723422912/it-was-funny-in-my-head****  
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**After reading it, I just could not get this out of my head. So I hope you enjoy!  
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**== Sufferer: Give the kid the cake.**

That's what you're trying to do, but nobody is answering the door! You can't exactly give the cake to your descendant if he isn't there. You turn around a bit, glancing at Ψiioniic, who shrugged at you before leaning forward to knock again. Before his knuckles hit the door, however, it swung open, revealing a short, scruffy-haired, irritated teen and a taller, obviously very bored teen.

"Oh. Shit. Uh, hello Signless?" Karkat said, all anger leaving his features to be replaced by slight bewilderment.

"Hi there!" you said, mocking excitement, "we brought you a cake!" Karkat took the box you held out to him warily, obviously extremely confused. Sollux looked on in mild curiosity.

"Oh, uh, did you no—" he lifted the lid to reveal the cake that the Dolorosa had helped you and Ψiioniic make. You were never much of a baker. Or a cook at all, really. Disciple was always bringing up that one time when you'd somehow managed to set a _rock_ on fire when you were trying to surprise everyone and fry some cluckbeast eggs on it for them. It had ended horribly, and Dolorosa had just ended up serving the usual grubsauce-slathered roots while Disciple bandaged your hands and Ψiioniic just looked on, laughing.

This cake had actually turned out pretty well, all things considered. You'd even done the writing yourself (you had to, Dolorosa would have had an aneurism if she knew what you wrote). All in all, you were quite proud of your creation. And it was certainly given up for a good cause.

You watched, hearing Ψiioniic's silent laughter behind you as your descendent silently mouthed the words on the cake, eyes wide. "CONGRAT2 ON THE 2EX."

Sollux snickered, raising an eyebrow, "That'th clathy."

Karkat, on the other hand, had flushed an incredibly bright red. He spluttered for a moment, not able to form coherent words. You bit your lip, trying desperately to contain your laughter. This kid seriously needed to lighten up.

"WHAT!" he shrieked when he had finally managed to speak. He immediately shoved Sollux back into the apartment, slamming the door behind them. You could hear muffled screams from within. Mission accomplished.

You shared a fist bump with Ψiioniic, allowing an only slightly evil grin to take over your features.

"We are the greatest ancestors."

"It ith uth."

"Where's Disciple? You know she'd wanna hear about our success."

"I think she'th with the little girl in the coat. Gothiping, probably."

"Lord Lisps-a-lot is totally getting laid tonight. He should thank us."

Ψiioniic glanced at you, "Lord—"

"Your descendent."

"Sollux."

"Yeah, him."

**== Be Lord Lisps-a-lot**

You would be him, but he's currently sulking, so you're going to be Baron Bulge-blocker instead. You were currently devouring the cake extremely angrily. It was infuriatingly delicious.

**== Wait, what happened?**

What do you mean what happened? You ate cake. You took personal offence in how wonderfully sugary and sweet it tasted. Every bite was like an insult to—

**== Karkat was screaming.**

Of course you were. You were always screaming. After you slammed the door in your ancestor's face was no exception to this rule.

You stormed into your small kitchen, flinging the box onto the counter violently. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone speak logically. You doubted Sollux could actually understand a word you were saying. He just sat leisurely on the back of your couch, crossing his arms and watching you with a lopsided grin on his face.

"I mean, how the fucking fuck do they even know where our hive is! There are rules about bulge-brained ancestors not being permitted to meet their descendants and hand off possibly-poisoned cakes bearing bucket-headed messages that may or may not actually be true.

And speaking of that, how did they find out about—" you made a strangled noise as your sentence died off and your face flushed again.

**== Will you be Sollux **_**now**_**?**

You had to admit that this was probably one of the funniest things you had ever seen. You were trying desperately not to laugh at Karkat. Unfortunately, you completely lost it when he started questioning how the fuck your ancestors had found out about your relationship. He glared at you, face burning.

"What the fuck is it, bee-brain?" It was like a vicious cycle. The more flustered Karkat became, the more you laughed, which only embarrassed and angered him more. The cake had most likely been a joke. A pretty clever one, too, in your opinion. But to Karkat, it was… you didn't even know. You really had no idea why he'd taken it so seriously.

Karkat began yelling at you directly, rather than just venting his anger. You just continued to laugh. You couldn't help it. You loved it when Karkat got this flustered.

Finally you contained your laughter, but Karkat continued to rant. You rolled your eyes, still grinning, before kissing him.

For some reason, the brief kiss, mostly intended to just shut Karkat up, turned into a lip-lock, which then turned to tongue-wrestling, and eventually, you both ended up on the couch, you lying between his legs as sloppy make-outs ensued.

You sat up for a moment, tugging off your shirt and tossing it to the side.

"Okay, no." You hesitated, hovering over him and about to continue where you had left off.

"What ith it?" you asked, wary.

"Nope. We're not doing this," Karkat wriggled out from beneath your hips, pulling his shirt down and standing up, wobbling around the couch and back into the kitchen.

"Why?" you whined. You were not expecting him to quit that early and you couldn't help but take offense.

"That cake is _not_ getting you laid." You stared at Karkat in disbelief as he opened the box of cake again, grimacing at it and pulling a knife out of a drawer.

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Nope."

You sat turned around, sitting cross-legged on the couch and staring blankly in front of you. "I can't believe you. I theriouthly cannot believe you. You're actually going to deny me a piethe of your ath because of a fucking cake."

Karkat snorted.

You fished the remote from under the couch, turning the TV on before retrieving a ps2 controller and beginning to play Dynasty Warriors, venting on Liu Bei.

"Fuck! Dish cake ish actually kind of aweshome! Doshe fuckersh…" Karkat mumbled angrily to himself, voice muffled, presumably by cake. You said nothing, curling in on yourself a bit and continuing to kick Wu butt.

**== Sollux: Stop sulking.**

Not happening. So let's be Karkat instead.

No cake designed for the sole purpose of getting people laid (you were convinced that this was the real reason for the cake) had any right to be this good. You took personal offense in how wonderfully sugary and sweet it tasted. Every bite was like an insult to your very being.

"Shollux, you sure you don' wan' a pieshe of dish cake?" you asked through a mouthful, knowing he wouldn't respond. God, he got pissy when denied access to your pants. "Shuit yourshelf."

Whatever. He could suck it.

Figuratively.


End file.
